The Strength in the Sorrow
by timeaftertime09
Summary: Speculation on spoilers from Season 7 finale. How an unthinkable tragedy brings Booth & Brennan even closer together, despite the obstacles it presents for them along the way.
1. Chapter 1

"How's my little Squint today, huh? Aren't you just the cutest and the sweetest and the prettiest baby girl in the whole world? _Yes you are!_ Daddy loves you . . . _yes he does_ . . ." Booth cooed and made silly faces over his newborn daughter.

Brennan silently watched, trying hard not to smile at his overly affectionate and illogical display.

"It's impractical to talk to our child with that tone and language, Booth. She should learn from an early age how to properly communicate," she told him, walking into the kitchen.

Booth's cheery face fell as he prepared for another lecture, much like the one he received years ago when they were taking care of baby Andy.

"But . . . there are times when I find it endearing," she finished, giving him a soft kiss on his lips.

"Ya hear that, princess? Mommy likes it when Daddy talks silly! _Yes she does . . . aww . . ._" he cooed at his daughter again.

"_In moderation_," she corrected him.

"You like it, Bones . . . you _know _you like it . . ." Booth teased, tickling Brennan and chasing her down as she tried to escape his grasp, their daughter making noises in delight.

"_Booth . . ._" she giggled.

He drew her in for a loving kiss until his phone rang.

"Booth," he barked. "Yeah. We'll be there."

Brennan looked at him quizzically.

"Gotta go – we got a case!" he said, grabbing Christine's carrier and heading for the door.

"_Booth!_ I'm not dressed yet!" she exclaimed, exasperated, and ran to the bedroom. "And neither are you, for that matter!"

Booth, still in boxers, came running back in for his pants.

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"What do we got?" Booth asked, approaching the crime scene, the FBI parking garage.

"Looks like another victim of -" Hodgins replied, pointing to the headless skeleton.

"Pelant . . ." Brennan finished Hodgins' sentence for him as she began to examine the mangled remains. "Female, early thirties . . . Has given birth to a child . . . The third phalange of the left hand is absent . . ."

"Did she have an engagement ring or something he wanted?" Hodgins guessed.

"It means something more cryptic than that. Perhaps Pelant used it to suggest a lack of marital status?" Brennan suggested.

"Bones – look over there," Booth told her.

"'Where is my child?'" Brennan read Pelant's signature blood-written message. "Hodgins, have the team transport the remains back to the Jeffersonian. We have to find this child before Pelant gets to her or him."

"If he already hasn't," Booth commented.

"The skull is unattached and nowhere to be found," Brennan observed.

"Dr. B!" Wendell ran into the garage. "You've gotta come see this!"

Brennan and Booth both followed him outside and saw the skull replacing one of the Os of the Hoover.

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Brennan walked into Booth's office apprehensive about revealing to Booth the evidence she and her team had uncovered.

Booth, oblivious, began telling her what he found out.

"Hey, Bones. I contacted all of the local schools and daycare facilities in the area to see if any kid was missing, as well as all the Missing Persons reports within the last few days. Did you find anything out from the victim?" he asked.

"Booth . . ." Brennan hesitated, the paper containing Angela's mock-up of the victim shaking in her hand.

Booth's phone rang and interrupted them.

"Dad? Mom was supposed to pick me up from soccer practice over an hour ago, but she's not here. Do you where she is?" Parker asked him.

"I don't know, bub. That's not like your mom, but I'll be right there, okay?" Booth answered.

"Okay, Dad. Thanks!" Parker replied and hung up.

"Booth, I think I know why Rebecca was not there for Parker this afternoon," Brennan slowly told him and revealed the digital drawing. "The particulates match."

Booth took one look at it and had to brace himself with the desk to keep from falling.

"Oh, god!" he exclaimed. "No! No, Ang must've gotten it wrong. Rebecca's fine . . . she just got caught up with work or something and forgot. It happens to the best of us . . . no, it's not her. It's _not_ her, Bones! I can't – I can't tell Parker that – NO! No it's _not_ her!"

Brennan came around his desk and put her hand gently on his arm.

"Booth, I'm so sorry. I – I can't imagine what you are going through at this moment, but I will do my best to help you however I can," she promised.

"It's not Rebecca, Bones," Booth vowed. "My son will _not_ grow up without a mother – _not_ like I did . . . not like you did . . ."

Brennan pulled him into a comforting embrace.

"Okay, Booth. It's okay. We'll get through this," she soothed him, gently kissing his cheek and continuing to rub his back as he broke down in her arms.

"Parker! Bones, that son of a bitch could be after him right now!" Booth realized and bolted out of his office.

Brennan ran to catch up with him.

"I'm coming with you!" she insisted.

Booth blocked the exit from her.

"No – Bones, it's not safe! God knows where that sick bastard is or what he'll do! Just get Christine and go home. I'll meet you there, okay?" he argued.

"And you think going by yourself is a logical idea? Booth, you have a personal interest in this case. You aren't thinking like an agent at the moment, you have an emotional investment. I'm going with you," Brennan insisted, pushing past him through the revolving doors.

Booth followed, knowing there wasn't any time to debate the subject any longer or any use changing Brennan's mind when she made it up. He caught up with her in the garage and they both climbed in his SUV and sped off.

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They drove in awkward silence for a few minutes before Brennan spoke.

"Angela and Hodgins said they would watch Christine tonight. And Cam offered to take her tomorrow night if we needed it," she said.

"That's not necessary, Bones," Booth said, trying to focus on driving.

"Booth, Parker will need our full attention for the next two or three days. I think it's best if we -" she argued.

"I said, 'no', Bones!" Booth snapped. "I don't even know if we're telling Parker anything yet."

"Why wouldn't we? Booth . . . are you still unconvinced of my team's findings? Because I can assure you that -" she asked.

"I get it. And I believe you wouldn't have told me if you weren't positive the ID was a match. I trust you guys – I just – I don't know . . ."

"You haven't had time to accept it yourself and would feel more comfortable waiting until you have . . . You want to be able to be there for your son," Brennan guessed.

"H-How did you know?" he asked.

"Because I know you, Booth. You're strong for everyone else, but deep down, I know you are hurting too," she observed.

"Can we talk about this later?" he requested as they pulled up in front of Parker's school. "I'll tell him, but not here. Not now."

"Of course. But we _will_ have to discuss what you are feeling," she insisted.

"Okay, Bones. Promise," Booth said as they walked toward the empty soccer field. "Parker?"

"Parker! Parker?" Brennan called and searched the bleachers.

"I'll check the locker room – he's always forgetting something," Booth explained, but pulled out his gun just in case.

"I'm coming with you," Brennan insisted, afraid of what or who they might find.

"Parker, hey, buddy it's your dad – and Brennan," Booth called and they weaved around the lockers.

"Booth, I hear water running," she noticed, pointing toward the showers.

Booth cautiously approached the shower.

"Hello?" he said. "FBI - answer or I'm comin' in there!"

No one answered, so Booth ripped the curtain open, finding diluted blood on the floor.

"Parker? Parker, are ya in here?" Booth called, praying the blood wasn't from his son.

Brennan shared a feared look with him.

"Dad?" Parker said, coming through the door from the school building.

"Parker! Don't _ever_ do that to me again!" Booth berated and hugged his child at the same time.

"What? What's wrong? I just went to get a bandaid from the nurses' office. Coach ran out of 'em," he explained, pointing to his skinned knee.

"You had me worried, alright? If you promise to meet me in a certain spot – keep that promise," Booth insisted.

"He's okay, Booth," Brennan assured her partner while hugging Parker. "Aren't you, Parker?"

"I'm great! Why do you guys look so worried?" he asked.

"Just turn off the shower, buddy," Booth told his son and headed for the car. "We'll talk later."

"Would you like to have pizza for dinner?" Brennan offered, knowing it was his favorite after practice or a game.

"Dad? Can we?" the boy looked at his father with hopeful eyes.

"You heard the lady – delivery or homemade?" he asked.

"Do ya have to ask? I love Bren's pizza – especially when you try to help!" Parker exclaimed. "The last time, you slipped on an eggshell and got flour all over you!"

"As I recall, _you_ were a big mess, too, after I got you and Bones back for laughin' at me," Booth remembered as they got in the car.

"And mom's face when she came to pick me up and saw us – it was hilarious!" Parker laughed.

"Yeah, that was pretty hilarious, Parks . . ." he agreed, attempting to hide the sadness in his voice.

"Where _is_ Mom? Why didn't she pick me up? Am I staying with you guys, tonight?" Parker asked.

"Yeah, you're stayin' with us, tonight, buddy," Booth answered.

"Cool! Can I play that new forensics game on the Wii?" he begged.

"We'll see," Booth bargained.

"Is Mom picking me up, tomorrow?" he inquired.

"Actually, you're gonna be stayin' with us for a little while," Booth told his son.

"How long? 'Cause I have a biology report due on Friday – I left my research at home," he remembered.

"We'll get it before then," Booth promised.

"Maybe Mom can drop it off, tonight?" Parker suggested.

"Hey – we're home! How 'bout that pizza, Parks? I'm starvin'!" Booth attempted to distract his son for a while. "What do ya want on yours?"

"I phone the gluten-free goat cheese!" Brennan played along.

"It's 'call' not phone, Bones. And you're welcome to it!" Booth cringed. "Parker and I'll take fresh mozzarella any day!"

"And pepperoni!" Parker added. "Is Grandpa Max here with Christine? He always has cool stories to tell."

Brennan wondered how much her father had indulged about his life, but dismissed it.

"No, Parker. Your sister is spending time with Angela, Hodgins, and Michael," she answered, entering the kitchen.

"Oh. That's okay. I like it better when it's just us," he replied.

"_Parker . . ._" Booth scolded.

"Sorry . . . I was just telling the truth," he excused.

"It's alright, Booth. Parker should be allowed to express his feelings. It doesn't mean that he doesn't love his sibling, just that he wishes to spend quality time with his father," Brennan understood as she got out the ingredients.

"Fine. Just watch it, okay?" Booth warned.

"Yeah, Dad," Parker agreed.

"So – pizza!" Booth changed the subject, grabbing each of them a ball of dough.

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"Dad?" Parker asked.

"Yeah, bub?" Booth said.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" he assumed.

"Why do ya think that?" he feigned innocence.

"'Cause you let me have pizza _and _popcorn _and_ ice cream _and_ brownies _and_ stay up late and play video games on a school night. And you won't mention where Mom is," Parker pointed out. "Is she in the hospital? Can I see her?"

"No, Parker . . . she's not in the hospital . . . Why don't you come sit on the couch in here?" Booth answered, looking at Brennan nervously as he led his son to the couch in the family room.

"I . . . will give the two of you some privacy," she said and started to go into her office.

"No – Bones – stay," he pleaded. "We're a family."

The words sat heavily with the two of them after they were spoken out loud.

"Are you guys having another baby?" Parker asked.

"No, Parker . . . your sister is still very young. It would be irresponsible and impractical to have another infant so soon," Brennan explained.

"Then you're getting married, right?" he guessed. "Dad told me _you_ were gonna propose to _him_. That's really weird – girls don't propose."

"Anthropologically speaking, the male partner usually proposes to the female partner. However, in recent years, it has been found that occasionally females will propose to the males," she informed the boy. "But I have not proposed to your father at this time."

"Oh," he replied, confused. "Then what's going on?"

"Parker, uh, we need to tell you something about your mom. And we want you to know that we'll always be there for you – no matter how bad things are." Booth promised his son.

Parker looked at his dad, then Brennan.

"Just tell me, okay? I'm not a kid anymore – I'm in middle school," he insisted.

"Buddy, your mom . . . well, we – I – I can't even say it," Booth attempted to reveal the truth.

"Your mother was a victim - we discovered her identity in our most recent case. She . . . is no longer living." Brennan tried to put the news delicately.

"She's . . . dead? S-She's _dead? How? W-Why?_" Parker said, his voice quivering.

"The, uh, the guy we're tryin' to catch . . . he wanted to make a point. And he did another bad thing – an unthinkable thing. He took your mother's life," Booth explained.

"Why would he _do_ that? She didn't do anything wrong! She's a great mom – a great person . . . You - you're lying!" Parker accused his father.

"I'm not lying, buddy. I have always told you the truth – _always_," he reminded him.

"He's not, Parker. I'm sorry, but your father is telling you the truth," Brennan assured him.

"_You're_ lying, too! You probably _want_ Mom to be dead just so she won't ever get in the way of you and Dad!" Parker stormed out, tears streaming down his face.

Brennan flinched at the very thought of Parker's scenario.

"Parker Booth, get back here _right now_ and apologize to Brennan!" Booth yelled, going after him.

Brennan put her hand on his chest to stop him.

"Booth, no! Just let him go – he has a right to be angry. Despite his untrue and hurtful accusations, he lost his mother . . . it's a difficult issue to cope with," she told him, remembering her own mother's death.

Booth sighed.

"You're right . . . Maybe you could help him – when he's ready?" he suggested.

"I'm still not very good with emotional situations, but I will do the best I can," she promised. "Are you prepared to discuss your feelings?"

"_Now?_" he complained. "C'mon, Bones. It's been a long, horrible day. Can we please table this conversation for another time? Parker's the one I'm worried about - _I'm_ fine."

"You're not fine, Booth. The mother of your child was murdered. We're sharing our lives together – let me help you through this," she pleaded.

Booth nodded.

"I don't – I don't want you to have to deal with this, Bones. Rebecca . . . I don't – I never loved her like I love you – not even close. But I still cared about her – she gave me Parker - I wouldn't trade that for anything . . . And now she's gone, all because of that sick bastard!" he restrained himself from throwing something in frustration. "What am I gonna do? And you . . . you didn't ask for this either. Having an eleven-year-old kid on the weekends and part of the summer is one thing – but all the time? You didn't sign up for this."

"Parker is your _son_, Booth. Of course I never planned to assist in raising him full time, but I did not plan on a lot of things that have happened in my life," she took his hand and smiled shyly. "Parker is a remarkable child and I have grown to love him very much. I realize this is not the ideal situation, but I am willing to make it work. As you have mentioned, we are a family."

"You have no idea how much that means to me, Bones," Booth told Brennan, pulling her into a warm embrace.

"I love you, Booth," she told him. "And I'm very sorry this tragedy occurred."

"Me, too, Bones. Me, too," he told her, holding her tight.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for your reviews! I doubt this will be the storyline the show will use, but it would explain the finale spoilers without confusing fans as much whenever they decide to show the four extra episodes. Here's the next chapter . . . :)_

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"Mom? _Mooooommmm!"_ Brennan bolted up from her bed as she heard screaming.

"Booth," she nudged her partner. "_Booth!_"

"What? Huh?" Booth awoke, groggily.

"I think Parker's having a nightmare," she told him. "I would tend to him, but I believe I am the last person he wishes to see at the moment."

Booth rubbed his eyes, not fully comprehending her comment.

"K . . . I'll go check on him," he replied, slowly getting out of bed.

"I will get him a soporific," she offered, fumbling for her robe.

Booth woke up enough not to trip in the dark to Parker's room.

"Hey, Parks. You okay?" he asked, sitting down on his bed.

"I-I had a really bad dream . . . Mom . . . sh-she was calling to me and I couldn't get to her . . . I tried – I-I ran as fast as I could . . . but she was gone . . . I never got to say goodbye – _I never got to say goodbye . . ._" he cried.

Booth took his son in his arms and held him.

"Shh . . . It's okay, buddy. Just let it out," he soothed him.

"She thinks I hate her," Parker sniffled.

"Your mom _never_ thought that," Booth assured him.

"Yes she did – I told her . . . yesterday, I was mad she wouldn't let me play video games until I finished my biology report," he explained, burying his head in his father's chest.

"Hey, look at me. Mom did not think you hated her – _not for a second_. She knew you were just upset. She knew you loved her. _I promise_," Booth insisted.

"Are you sure?" Parker asked.

He wiped his son's tears from his cheeks.

"Positive. How many times have you said that to me, huh? Your mom and I both know you don't mean it," Booth replied.

Parker nodded at his father as Brennan approached with a cup of hot chocolate.

"I thought you might like something to drink. Warm milk is a soporific which will calm your nerves and aid in sleep," Brennan explained.

"Thanks," Parker mumbled, taking the mug from her.

"I . . . have experienced unpleasant dreams before," she offered, sitting on the other side of him. "I have dreamt that my mother was pushing me on a swing in the park . . . We were laughing . . . and then all of a sudden she'd be gone . . . They are very difficult to overcome, but I find thinking about something that makes you happy assists in going back to sleep."

"I'm not really happy right now," Parker told her.

"We know that, buddy. But we know there _are_ things ya like to do and see – what about that Flyers game? Or that bike ya want for your birthday?" Booth suggested.

Parker thought for a minute.

"There's a trip my class won to Six Flags . . . but Mom was supposed to help out," he lowered his head.

"I know I'm not Mom, but I could go instead?" Booth offered. "Would that be okay?"

Parker slowly agreed.

"Will you . . . come, too?" he asked Brennan, timidly.  
>"If you are certain you would like me there," she told him.<p>

Parker hesitated before speaking.

"I'm sorry, Bren . . . I-I didn't really mean what I said about you and Dad," Parker apologized.

"It's alright, Parker. I understand your need to place blame on someone. However, I would like you to know that I would _never_ wish any harm on your mother . . . We barely knew each other, but from what I could tell, she was a good person who loved you very much . . . Your father and I . . . we aid in convicting murderers through science and evidence and prevent them from taking others' lives. We _will_ catch your mother's killer. I promise," she vowed, then looked at Booth.

Booth caught her eyes and agreed.

"You have my word, Parker. He's not gonna get away with this," Booth promised.

Parker finished the rest of his drink and was silent.

"If you catch the bad guys before they hurt anyone else, why couldn't you catch him before he got to mom?" he asked.

Booth and Brennan looked at each other, struggling with how to explain the situation.

"Listen, Parker, sometimes the bad guys are really, really smart. They find ways to break the laws without us being able to prove that they committed a crime. It takes us a little longer to figure out how to prove that they did it . . . And I swear to you – if I had known this guy was gonna make it personal, I would've sent you, and your mom, and your sister, and Brennan someplace safe a long time ago," he told his son.

Brennan shot Booth a look of protest, but fought the urge to verbally argue with him and focused on Parker's insecurities.

"But he is _not_ smarter than us, Parker. We _will_ prove he is guilty," Brennan insisted.

Parker stared at his empty mug, still slightly unconvinced.

Booth gently took the mug back.

"Okay, bub. You think maybe you can try to get some more sleep?" he asked.

"I'll try," he sighed.

"Deal," Booth said with a bittersweet smile and tucked him in tightly. "Goodnight, Parker. I love you."

"Goodnight, Dad. 'Nite, Bren," Parker told them.

"Goodnight, Parker," Brennan said, lightly brushing his curly blond hair away from his eyes and kissing his forehead.

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Three hours later, Brennan's phone rang. She groaned and slid out of Booth's embrace, fumbling to find the pick-up button.

"Brennan," she answered.

"Hi, Dr. Brennan, it's Dr. Saroyan. Sorry to bother you. I'm sure you're having a tough enough time helping Booth and Parker cope with their loss, but I was wondering if you could spare a couple of hours to come into the lab? We might have a lead," she explained.

"I'll be there," Brennan said, hanging up. She dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom to shower and change. When she came back into the bedroom, she sat down on the bed and gently woke Booth.

"Hey . . . I'm going into the lab for a few hours – they might have a lead," she told him.

"I'm goin' with you," he said, attempting to get up.

She gently pushed him back down.

"Go back to sleep. I'll call you if there is anything definitive," she promised.

Booth reluctantly agreed, slumping back down.

Brennan leaned over and tenderly kissed him on the lips.

"I'll be back for lunch," she said, and left.

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As she drove through the last light before the Jeffersonian, a car came barreling out of nowhere. She slammed on her brakes.

"Holy shit! Learn how to drive, you jackass!" she shouted in frustration, hitting her horn as she continued her route to the Jeffersonian.

"Dad said we're not supposed to say bad words," a voice spoke.

Brennan looked in her rearview mirror to see the eleven-year-old boy scrunched on the floor board of the backseat of her Prius.

"Parker! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, getting yet another shock within the last minute.

"I heard you telling Dad you had a lead on Mom's case . . . I want to see her," he confessed.

"Parker, why didn't you ask me?" she questioned, pulling into the garage and shutting off the engine.

"'Cause I knew you'd say 'no'," he admitted.

Brennan sighed and got out of the car, moving to the backseat with him.

"You are correct. While I would normally love to have you visit the lab, these are not the appropriate circumstances for doing so. Having experienced a similar situation myself, I can assure you that you would not want to be in the lab," she told him. "You have a more emotional personality, like your father."

"Your mom was murdered, too?" Parker questioned, surprised.

"Yes, a man with whom my parents were formerly associated was after them. They went on the run when I was fifteen, leaving my brother and me alone, thinking we would be safer without them. That man caught up with them and murdered my mother with a spring-loaded bolt stunner . . . my father pulled her away from it before it fully penetrated her skull, but she died a year later from a subdural hematoma," Brennan explained.

"Why did he want her to die?" he asked.

"Because my parents were no longer a part of his group and he did not wish to get into trouble with the police if they decided to disclose his crimes at some point," Brennan explained.

"So he killed her to make sure they didn't?" Parker assumed. "That's awful! I'm sorry, Bren."

"Thank you, Parker . . . What I was trying to tell you, though, was that I was unaware of my mother's location at the time. I had assumed she was still with my father . . . Her body was found years later and my team and I unknowingly identified her. It was very difficult to see her decomposed, despite the fact that I work with bones every day . . . I do not wish for you to experience that with _your_ mother, and I don't think your father would either," Brennan tried to convince Parker to let her take him home.

"But I need to see her. _Please, Brennan?_ I need to know it's true – for real," he pleaded.

"I understand your desire for solid scientific evidence. However, I do not think you should be exposed to your mother's remains, given your pre-adolescent age, emotional personality, and the short amount of time since the crime was committed. I am very sorry, Parker . . . When we get inside, I will call your father and you can wait in the daycare center with Christine until he comes to pick you up," Brennan was kind, but stood firm.

"But I thought you _got_ this? That you knew what I was going through? I'm not a kid anymore – I can handle it! I want proof!" he demanded.

"I am sorry, Parker. But my answer is still 'no'," Brennan repeated as they entered the building.

"This isn't fair – I thought you were different, but you're not. You're just like the other adults – _I hate you!_ I wish it was you who died instead of Mom!" Parker lashed out.

Brennan was usually very good at repressing her emotions, but tears managed to pool in her eyes. She discreetly wiped them away and turned toward her partner's son.

"I wish you didn't feel that way, but this is not the place to discuss it. Please follow me to the daycare center without making a spectacle," she requested. "I was going to convince your father not to punish you, but if your behavior does not improve, I may have to rethink my decision."

"You're not my mom!" he retorted.

"Yes, I realize that we have no biological relation to one another," Brennan replied, matter-of-factly.

Parker was silent, pouting that his insult didn't have the effect he presumed it would.

"Let's go," she instructed before Cam caught up with her.

"Dr. Brennan – you're here . . . and you've brought Parker . . ." Cam greeted her, disapprovingly, then turned to Parker with a sympathetic expression. "Hi, buddy, how are you doing?"

"Hi, Cam," he mumbled.

"Yes, I realize that during an investigation, the lab is no place for a child, Dr. Saroyan. However, Parker left me no choice – he hid in my car and followed me," Brennan explained. "I was in the process of taking him to the daycare facility until his father could pick him up.

"He wanted to know it was true," Cam assumed.

Brennan nodded.

"But I cannot show him the facts – Booth would be very displeased with me . . . and I realize that Parker is a child and he is not like me. Seeing his mother like that would deeply affect him – emotionally speaking. I am not certain as to how to proceed, except to tell him that our team has determined her demise using the same forensic procedures we use in every case," she told her, watching Parker go in and out of the automatic door in boredom. "Parker, please stop overusing the door's electronic sensor and come here."

Parker obeyed, reluctantly, just as Angela came down from her office.

"Hey, sweetie! Hi, Parker," she greeted Brennan and gave Parker a hug. "I just overheard you guys and I think I might have an idea."

"What do you mean?" Brennan asked.

Angela pulled Brennan to the side, allowing Cam to watch Parker for a minute.

"I was thinking maybe I could show Parker what _I_ do as far as identifying bodies – with one of the victims from Limbo," she suggested. "It wouldn't be his mother, but he'd be able to understand how we knew it was her."

Brennan hesitated to agree.

"Bren, Booth's little boy lost his mother, but all he has is our word that she died. Maybe this will help him believe we're telling the truth . . . make him truly accept it without leaving too much of a scar." Angela reasoned.

"A scar? Why would viewing remains wound someone?" Brennan asked, confused.

"Emotionally, sweetie," she explained, sighing.

"Oh," Brennan said. "Well, perhaps you are correct. I find myself struggling when it comes to aiding in Parker's situation. Maybe you would be of more help to him."

"I'll try," Angela promised.

"I will call Booth and check on Christine. I presume she adapted well last night with you and Hodgins?" Brennan asked.

"She was a dream, sweetie," her friend assured her. "Michael was so enamored with having someone smaller than he was with us. And her little outfits . . . I told Hodgins we're not stopping until we have a girl."

Brennan smiled.

"I found I missed her very much," she admitted.

"Of course you did – you're her mother . . . go and see her. I'll take care of Parker," Angela said.

Brennan nodded sadly and started to leave.

Angela touched her shoulder.

"Hey . . . it'll all be okay," she promised.

"Thank you," Brennan half-smiled and approached Parker.

"Angela is going to take you to her office. She wants to explain some procedures to you," she told him.

"Okay," Parker agreed, unsure.

"I think you will find her presentation very informative," Brennan encouraged.

"Come on, kiddo. I promise, if nothin' else, it'll be better than hangin' out in daycare," Angela coaxed, leading him to her office.

Brennan mouthed a 'thank you' to her, then retrieved her phone from her bag while heading toward the daycare center.

"Booth," he answered his phone, half-asleep.

"It's me," Brennan said. "Parker is at the Jeffersonian. I wanted to make sure you knew."

"Wait – what? I'm comin' over there!" Booth insisted, hanging up and searching for some clothes.

"Booth – you have no need to be – Booth?" she heard her phone beep and realized she was talking to herself. Sighing in frustration, she entered the daycare to see their daughter.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so much for the reviews! :) For those of you who commented on it, I realize Parker isn't being the perfect, happy kid he's always been on the show. However, losing a parent at his age can cause any child (or adult) to lash out and not be themselves. Also, I believe children not having issues or acting out on TV is very unrealistic. Which is why I've written him as not being crazy about his new little sister and not overly ecstatic about Booth and Brennan being together. But of course, this is just my take on Parker - the show might continue to portray him as a perfect, innocent little boy. On another note, I apologize for not getting another chapter out sooner, but with Easter and the flu, it was difficult, lol. Anyway, here you go . . . :)_

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Booth entered Brennan's office to find her sitting at her desk nursing Christine.

"Hey - where's Parker? We're gonna have to have a little talk again about tellin' us where he's goin' _and_ sneakin' off," he asked, hurriedly, kissing the top of Brennan's head and smiling over her shoulder at their daughter.

"Booth, I realize you are under a lot of stress, but there is no need to worry. Parker is perfectly safe here. Angela is showing him how she identifies our victims," Brennan assured him, keeping a calm tone for Christine.

"She's _what?_ Bones! What were you thinking? Parker just lost his mother and you thought it'd be a good idea to show him how we ID dead bodies?" Booth said, flipping out.

Christine began to cry.

Brennan glared at her partner for causing the commotion and tried to soothe their child with one hand as she buttoned her blouse under the shield with the other.

"He wants to see Rebecca, Booth. He needs scientific proof that she is deceased. I did not give that to him and I explained why. However, he cannot accept our word without proof . . . I understand that. That's what we do, Booth – find proof. Angela explaining to him how we uncover that proof is the most effective way," she reasoned.

"I'm getting my son!" he insisted, storming out of her office.

Brennan sighed and leaned back in her chair as their baby continued to cry.

"It's alright, Christine," she comforted her. "I seem to have upset your father. I tried to 'walk in his shoes' as he would phrase it. Unfortunately, I did not succeed. I am not sure where I went wrong . . . I did not show your brother his mother's body, I explained it to him in a way that would appeal to his emotional character. I even sought Angela's help after she reasoned it would be effective but not traumatic . . . Perhaps we should follow your father before he blames Angela for something that was my decision at the time."

Christine smiled and cooed at her mother.

"I know you do not understand me, and your expression is more than likely from a release of gas, but it _is_ comforting when you look at me like that," Brennan smiled and went to Angela's office, hoping Booth hadn't expressed his anger on her.

When she got to the doorway, she witnessed something she wasn't expecting.

". . . And this right here will show us what they looked like," Angela explained to Parker as Booth stood beside him.

"How do you find out what their name was?" Parker asked.

"Well, we look through a database that matches facial structure, age . . . stuff like that," she told him.

"Like their hair?" he assumed.

"Not usually. Actually, hair isn't something we look for because people change their hair styles and color all the time," Angela said.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense – Mom's always trying new haircuts out . . . she even thought about dying her hair brown," Parker replied. "But you guys didn't have to use the face finder for her, did you?"

"No, buddy. We knew," Booth said, sadly.

"Brennan recognized her right away. But we made sure we had a perfect match from the evidence we found before confirming it. Sometimes computers don't always tell us the right thing," Angela explained.

"But it was right about Mom," he said.

"Unfortunately, it was. We would never tell you or your dad something like that without knowing for sure that it was true. We love you – both of you – and we would never want to upset you if we didn't have to," she assured him.

Parker nodded.

"Come on, Parker. We need to go and let Angela get back to work. Thank her for showin' ya what she does," Booth prompted his son.

"Thanks, Angela," he said.

"You're welcome, kiddo. Come see me or Hodgins anytime," she smiled and mussed his hair.

"But make sure to clear it with _us_ first," Booth warned.

"Okay, Dad," Parker agreed.

"We're not finished with our discussion yet – when we get home, you and me and Brennan are gonna have a long talk about takin' off without tellin' us where you're goin'. And did I mention the part about hidin' out in her car?" Booth added.

"Sorry, Dad," he lowered his head.

"You're right, you're sorry. Let's go – we've gotta go clean up the house a little before picking up Grandpa Nick and Nana Mary from the airport tonight," Booth said, steering Parker toward the doorway before he noticed Brennan standing there. "Hey . . . guess you heard all that."

She nodded and they looked at each other awkwardly until the sound of a constant, off-beat, soft slamming broke their silence.

"Parker – stop bouncin' that ball, okay? Why don't ya go sit in the lounge while we talk?" Booth suggested.

Parker shoved the tiny rubber ball back in his pocket and sauntered off around the corner.

"I . . . have to take Christine back to daycare and see what new evidence was found," Brennan excused. "Are Rebecca's parents staying with us? I can prepare the guest room for them?"

"Nah, they're stayin' at a hotel. Said they didn't wanna intrude on us," he answered.

"I do not see how they are intruding. Parker is Rebecca's son and their grandson. It's only natural for them to want to spend time with him. He is a direct ancestral link to their daughter," she replied, attempting to switch Christine to her other shoulder when Booth offered to take her for a while.

"Yeah, well, it's not like Rebecca and I were . . . and you're . . . it's just better this way. They're gonna spend time with Parker all day tomorrow – after they take care of some legal paperwork and stuff for the funeral," he explained.

"Booth, if Parker is to become a permanent part of our everyday lives, his grandparents should not feel unwelcome in our home. In a lot of cultures, the elderly are still the heads of their families and very well-respected. Rebecca's parents should not feel as if they are invading our domain simply because I am your current mate," Brennan told him.

"A.) Rebecca's parents aren't that old. And B.) I always knew you had an open heart, but everything's all taken care of right now. I'll mention they're welcome to visit us anytime they want and maybe we can all have dinner before they leave," he said.

"Alright," she said and reached for Christine. "I should take her and get back to work."

"Bones, wait. We need to talk about what happened when I got here," he said, wanting to make things right between them.

Brennan shifted her eyes in another direction, trying to avoid his pleading gaze.

"I should go," she took their daughter from him. "I will let you know of any evidence that could assist in an arrest."

"Hey – you're takin' Christine home when you're done here, right?" he asked.

"I was going to allow Cam to watch her tonight, in case Parker needs us like he did last night. However, I am obviously unsuccessful at making decisions when it comes to your son, so I will let you make that choice," she replied curtly and turned to leave.

"_Bones . . ._ Bones wait!" he called as she walked away.

"I will call you when I am ready to leave and you can let me know your decision," she told him and left.

Booth heaved a big sigh of frustration and went to the lounge to get Parker.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you so much for reading and for the reviews - they're much loved! :) Here's the next installment . . ._

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"Cam found fragments of what has been determined to be a small electronic device within the remains of her dermis. Hodgins discovered part of a serial number inscribed on one of the pieces," Brennan told Booth over the phone.

Booth half-smiled with hope.

"So Mr. Smart-ass has gotten sloppy, huh?" he assumed.

"The possibility is great that Pelant overlooked all of the potential evidence when . . . dismembering the body," she replied.

Booth cringed at the image.

"Jesus, Bones! Can we not go there?" he pleaded.

"I am sorry, Booth. I was trying to be as delicate as possible . . . If it is any consolation; it appeared from the markings on the bones that Rebecca did put up a fight before strangulation. She did not allow Pelant to kill her without struggling. I am certain, if we obtained enough evidence for a warrant, we would find scratches and bruises on Pelant's body along with a fractured tibia – her calcaneus reveals indications of extreme pressure applied to it before her death," Brennan said.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Perhaps she was wearing high-heeled shoes and managed to knock Pelant down, crushing his leg with the stiletto. The trajectory from the marking to another human male's tibia, given the angle, size, and appearance, is plausible," she explained. "The pressure she would have put on her calcaneus, judging from her weight, Pelant's weight, and the type of heel, is consistent with our findings. Of course, we have no evidence of what she was wearing at the time."

"He probably burned it," Booth assumed. "Do we have any DNA at all?"

"Pelant removed the epidermis and majority of the dermis from the body. Therefore, no DNA can be tested from the nail beds or wounds that would aid in convicting him. However, Hodgins and Angela are attempting to determine the remainder of the serial numbers as we speak . . . We _will_ get him, Booth," she promised assuredly. "Have you decided where our daughter is residing for the night?"

"About that . . . I don't think I've been . . . very fair," he admitted. "Why don't you and Christine come home and I'll make us all lunch?"

Brennan hesitated to accept so easily.

"I should remain in the lab until Hodgins and Angela obtain the concrete evidence that is needed," she replied.

"You can't really do anything while you're there, right?" he pointed out.

She stayed silent.

"Bones, please just come home. I need my family right now – _all_ of my family . . . I'm so sorry, baby – I'm _really_ sorry," he pleaded.

She sighed, finding it difficult to resist his desperation.

"Okay. I will get Christine and be home in half an hour," she unwillingly caved.

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"Hey . . ." Booth greeted Brennan as she entered their kitchen with a sleeping Christine, placing her in the pack-n-play. "I made fajitas – thought we'd try somethin' different for a change."

She nodded, taking a plate and silently fillling a tortilla with grilled vegetables, lettuce, shredded cheese, and pico de gallo.

"Parker's cleanin' his room –the chicken's not ready yet, so I'll call him down when it is . . . Bones, will ya please just say _something_?" he asked.

"I am not sure what there is _to_ say, Booth. It is clear that you do not trust me with your child, which makes me wonder how much you trust me with our own child," she replied.

"Hey, that is _not_ true. I _do_ trust you – I just freaked out a little, okay? I've never had to deal with something like this before. I just don't wanna make this any worse for Parker than it already is," Booth explained.

"And you assumed I would," she said, matter-of-factly.

"_No – that's not it at all_. I – when you said Ang was tellin' him all that stuff about ID-ing bodies . . . I don't know – I didn't think. I should've listened to you . . . took a step back," he admitted.

"I would _never_ hurt Parker, Booth," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I know you wouldn't, Bones. I know," he assured her. "I panicked. I'm sorry."

"If we are to continue to cohabitate, there will be instances in which I will have to care for your son. I do not find it logical to have to call you every time a decision has to be made. However, since Parker is your biological child, I will not go against your wishes if you insist I inform you of every conflict that arises," Brennan told him.

"I know – I get it. And I _do_ trust you - you're great with Parker . . . you're amazing with Christine . . . I wasn't thinking – I just reacted. I promise it won't happen again. When it comes to raising our children, there's no one I have faith in more than you," Booth said with conviction.

She lowered her head in disbelief and he gently lifted it back up.

"Hey . . . look at me. I mean it. I would never lie to you, okay? I plan on us growing old together, so of course you'll be a big part of Parker's life . . . only now it turns out you'll be an even bigger part. You're a great mom – don't ever doubt that – even if I happen to screw up," he said.

Brennan nodded.

"I love you so much," Booth told her, pulling her into a warm apologetic embrace.

"I love you too, Booth. And I promise I will do my best to raise Parker the way you wish him to be raised," she vowed.

"Bones, you don't have to walk on eggshells for me, alright? Parker is _your_ son now, too. I want us to raise him together, like Christine. It'll take us all some time to adjust, but I want you to think of him as your own, okay?" he said.

"Okay," she agreed. "Thank you, Booth. I assure you that this is not something I will take lightly. It means a lot to me."

"You're incredible. The way you've handled all of this . . . not taking anything personally, being so gracious and accommodating of my son and his grandparents, stepping-up when he needs it the most," he smiled in awe.

"I want to support you and Parker. My only concern at the moment is how Parker will adjust to his new environment. I'm not certain he will be very accepting of me as a full-time parental figure," she worried.

"He loves you, Bones. You know that," he assured her.

"Rationally, I should believe that, but I am experiencing doubts," she admitted, tearing up again.

"Did he say something to you?" Booth asked.

"It was more than likely an inadvertent statement . . . he was upset with me. I shouldn't have brought it up . . . you have more important issues to deal with," she told him, wiping her eyes.

"Bones, _you_ are important to me. Tell me what he said to you," he prompted, taking her hand in his.

She paused and looked down at their intertwined fingers.

"He told me that he wished I had died instead of his mother," she confessed. "He was angry . . ."

"Parker! Get downstairs right now!" Booth yelled.

"_Booth! You're too loud!_" she complained in a whisper and went to check on Christine, who by some miracle of the universe was still asleep.

"Sorry, but I had to get him down here," he apologized.

"I understand why Parker said it. I'm being irrational, due to my increased hormonal levels. Please do not punish him – he has enough to handle at the moment," she pleaded.

"He needs to know that saying something like that is not appropriate – no matter how mad he is at someone – and especially not at you," he insisted.

Parker entered the kitchen.

"What is it, Dad? Is the food ready yet? I'm starved!" he said.

"Parker, why would you tell Brennan you wanted her to die instead of your mother?" Booth got right to the point. "We don't say stuff like that in our family. You know that."

Parker lowered his head in shame.

"I was mad, okay? She wouldn't let me see Mom and she was acting like she could tell me what to do," he excused.

"You know that's not an answer. We never wish bad things to happen to anyone – and we especially don't wish anyone to die," Booth scolded. "I thought we discussed this a while back that Brennan is a part of our family and when she asks you to do something, you listen to her."

"_But, Dad!_ She was trying to act like Mom and she's not!" Parker protested.

"Parker, I would never attempt to replace your mother. It is scientifically impossible and I wouldn't wish to even if it were. Your mother was a unique person and I know you loved her very much, as I did my own mother," Brennan intervened.

Parker nodded.

"What I _would_ like is to spend time with you and support you when you need it. And if I ask you to do something for me, it is only because there is a logical reason for it. I would never request you to do something irrational. You may not believe me, but I love you and I do not wish for you to be hurt – whether that be physically or emotionally," she revealed. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Parker said then hesitated. "Bren? I'm sorry I said that I wanted you to die. I don't – honest. I just wish Mom was still alive . . . I really miss her."

Brennan could see the boy's chin quiver with sadness and pulled him into a hug.

"I know. And you can come to me anytime you need to, okay?" she assured him, looking at Booth as his son held onto her tight and sobbed.

"We'll get through this, Parks – as a family," Booth promised.

Parker slowly broke away from Brennan and wiped his eyes.

"Dad?" he said.

"Yeah, bub," Booth answered.

"Can we eat, now?" he requested.

Booth and Brennan both smiled at each other, knowing the 'old Parker' was still in there.

"Sure, buddy. Wash your hands and go grab a plate," he told him, gently directing him toward the sink.

Brenna began to build another fajita when her phone rang.

"Brennan," she answered.

"Hey, Dr. B," Hodgins said. "We figured out the rest of the serial number and traced it back to a micro-security camera. But get this – it was supposedly purchased by Booth."

"Are you certain of your findings?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yeah – registered to Seeley J. Booth. This guy's all kinds of crazy," he said.

"I'll tell Booth. Thank you, Dr. Hodgins," Brennan said, hanging up.

"What'd he say?" Booth anxiously anticipated her response.

Brennan looked at her partner with worried eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you so much for reading and reviewing - I really appreciate it! :) Here's the next chapter . . . _

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"Parks, why don't you take your lunch into the family room and watch TV," Booth told his son, reading Brennan's eyes.

"Cool!" he replied.

"Use a coaster – and be extremely careful!" Brennan requested as he bounded into the other room.

"What'd he say, Bones? What's goin' on?" Booth asked.

"The serial number was for a hidden camera . . . one that you supposedly purchased," she told him.

"You don't think I did this do you?" he wondered.

"You have partial motive . . . but of course not. While you and Rebecca had differences, I know you would never invade her privacy – much less . . . _No – never!_ You are a good man, Booth. Everyone knows that," Brennan assured him.

"Thanks, Bones," he said, letting the news settle in his mind. "He spied on my family – that asshole was watching Rebecca and my son's every move! She must've found the camera . . . that's why he did it. He couldn't let her report it - she would've come straight to me. Why else wouldn't he have used the footage as blackmail or a threat or something?"

"Footage of Parker and Rebecca would have given Pelant leverage. Your theory is logical. But unless we can prove he obtained your credit card information and purchased the camera, we have nothing to arrest him for," she sighed.

"I've gotta get to the Bureau. Hacker needs to get everyone we have lookin' into this guy," he said, wrapping a couple of fajitas up in a paper towel and kissing her cheek before heading for the door. "I'll be back in time to pick up Nick and Mary from the airport."

"But Booth – I should go with you in case you obtain a search warrant," she called.

"I'll call ya, okay? Just take care of the kids," he requested.

Brennan caught up with him, realizing he had another agenda in mind.

"You're not going to go see Pelant are you?" she asked.

Booth hesitated, guilt written all over his face.

"Booth, our evidence is circumstantial at best. If you go after him without a warrant, the FBI will remove you from the case – perhaps even suspend you. You're too close to this as it is," she warned.

Booth looked at her stubbornly.

"_Booth!_" Brennan pleaded. "Promise me you'll stay away from him."

Booth sighed, unable to resist the worried expression she gave him.

"Alright, I'll wait," he caved.

"Thank you," she replied, briefly kissing his lips. "Be careful."

"Always," he promised, and left.

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It had been over a week later and still nothing had been found to solidify Christopher Pelant's involvement in the murder of Parker's mother or in hacking into Booth's credit card account. His home had been searched and he was taken in for questioning, but no charges would hold up in a court of law and both Booth and Brennan knew it. Brennan grew more and more frustrated at the possibility that maybe Pelant really was smarter than she was. She had made a promise to Parker to convict his mother's killer and it bothered her that she might have to break that promise to him. She continued to toss and turn into the early morning hours when she felt Booth's lips on her shoulder.

"Bones, are you alright? It's two in the morning," he asked.

Brennan turned to face him, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I'm afraid everyone is disappointed in me," she confessed.

"What? Why?" Booth wondered.

"I have failed to live up to my reputation as the best forensic anthropologist in the world," she answered.

"How?" he asked.

"You _know_ how, Booth," Brennan sighed.

"Hey, this is _not_ your fault," he insisted.

"It's _my_ responsibility to obtain evidence from the victim's bones to find and convict their killer. It's what I do, Booth. I help the victim's family find peace . . . Only, along with Inger Johansson's parents and Ezra Krane's fiancée, I am also failing to help you and Parker," she said. "And Rebecca's parents . . . they are not even able to bury their daughter because of me. We had to send them home and said we'd let them know when her remains could be released."

"You're not failing, Bones. You have _nothing_ to feel bad about. These cases can take a while – you know that," Booth assured her.

"The one thing I have always been confident in is my intellectual abilities. I am well above the status of an average genius. I am extraordinary," she stated matter-of-factly. "However, the fact that I am unable to prove that Pelant is a serial killer has rendered me unsure of my capabilities. I have never felt incompetent when it comes to being an anthropologist."

"You are _not_ incompetent – believe me. Look at how many cases we've solved together – and none of them would've been without you . . . But don't you think I feel just as guilty, if not more? I'm his father, Bones- I should be able to nail this guy," Booth sighed. "And we will – there's no way in hell I'm gonna let this bastard go free."

"Neither will I, Booth. I won't divide my attention between any other projects until we have convicted Pelant. You and Parker and Christine are the most important people in my life and I will not rest until I am assured we are safe and at peace," Brennan vowed.

"Thanks, Bones . . . Ya know, I was thinkin' . . . maybe we're tryin' too hard. Maybe we just need to step back and take a small break – a day to clear our heads. We're all stressed out – us, the team. How about we take Parker and Christine to the zoo tomorrow – spend a day without thinkin' about everything that's happened – and then come back and start fresh?" he suggested.

"You want to delay the investigation?" she said skeptically. "Is that wise? We don't know what Pelant's agenda is. The longer he is merely on house arrest, the more potential there is for him to get to another one of our family members."

"That's it! Bones, you really _are_ a genius!" Booth exclaimed, kissing her zealously.

"I know." she said, matter-of-factly. "But you've never expressed your excitement over it before?"

"House arrest – the ankle monitor. We just took the company's word for it that Pelant was legit and accounted for. What if he has an inside source or what if he hacked into their system and made sure the thing doesn't go off even though he isn't in his apartment?"

"Or, what if he devised a mechanism which overrides the monitor?" Brennan added and reached for her phone. "I need to call Hodgins and Angela!"

Booth immediately confiscated it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Bones, it's only 2:30 in the morning. Let 'em sleep – we can call everyone first thing tomorrow, okay?" he reasoned.

"It _is_ tomorrow. And wouldn't it be best to investigate our theory while it's still on our minds?" she said, snatching it back in irritation.

"Normally, I'd agree with ya. But I'm exhausted. Can we just get some rest? I'm as eager as you are to solve this case, but I've been functioning on three or four hours of sleep for over a week, now. And I'm not even counting Christine's night owl habits," he joked.

"Our daughter is not a nocturnal bird, Booth," she stated. "However, I concede your point as to the lack of sleep we have both experienced recently. I will wait until a more agreeable hour to notify them."

Booth gently took the phone from her and placed it on his nightstand.

"Thank you. Now c'mere," he said, pulling her into a loving kiss that soon turned heated.

Brennan slightly pulled away.

"I thought you said you were tired?" she questioned, crinkling her brow.

"I am. I just needed somethin' good to dream about," he explained, inhaling the scent of her hair.

She smiled and lightly chuckled.

"If I weren't feeling the same, I'd give you something more," she told him, running her finger over his pectoral muscles before resting her head on them.

Booth grinned.

"See ya in my dreams, baby," he replied, closing his eyes.

"Goodnight, Booth," Brennan smiled, snuggling into him.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you so much for reading and reviewing - it's much loved! Think maybe B&B are onto something? I won't keep you in suspense any longer - here's the next chapter . . . :)_

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"Now _I_ know and _you_ know that that slimy bastard killed your little boy's mama – along with those other poor souls, but chers, you two _do_ realize we can't hold this monster for life on a teeny tiny ankle monitor?" Caroline reminded Booth and Brennan. "We need solid evidence."

They both sighed knowing deep down it wouldn't be that easy.

"Where did Pelant commit the murders?" Brennan contemplated. "It wasn't possible for him to dismember the bodies in public without someone discovering him. The processes he used were too time-consuming. He had to have had a place other than his apartment to prepare the bodies before he strategically placed them throughout the district."

"Good thinkin', Bones. If we can find a key or a receipt or somethin' in his apartment that leads to another building, we've got him," Booth agreed.

"Just hold your sweet horses, cher. What makes you think I can issue _another_ warrant on _another_ hunch?" the sassy ADA replied. "I know this man is shifty, but if you two don't come up with somethin', my boss will have my hide – and you _know_ who's next!"

"But our reasoning for the search is valid. For Pelant to have disassembled and reassembled these bodies in view of the public is inconceivable," Brennan argued.

"Alright, cherie. You'll get your warrant – but you and your sexy G-man better get me that proof," Caroline relented. "And don't you forget to give those sweet children of yours a kiss from their Auntie Caroline when you get home."

"We won't. Thanks, Caroline," Booth said.

"Yes, thank you," Brennan added.

"Don't thank me yet," Caroline replied and left.

"Why don't I wait here and see if the guys can dig up info on the monitor company?" Booth suggested.

"And I'll go back to the lab and see if Hodgins and Angela have discovered any new information on the monitor itself," Brennan agreed.

"Let me drop ya off," he offered.

"It's fine, Booth. I'll just take a cab," she said.

"Bones, please just let me do this. I need to know you're safe," he asked.

"Okay," she conceded, wanting to ease his apprehension.

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"Hey. So Caroline got the warrant and I brought some guys from the Bureau to go check things out -" Booth told Brennan over the phone, hours later.

"_Booth!_ Why didn't you call me?" she asked. "My team at the Jeffersonian is much more adept at uncovering forensic evidence."

"Relax, Bones – we got what we need – a bunch of keys. One of 'em has to fit a storage building or somethin'. I just need Angela to do her thing with the computer," he explained.

Brennan sighed, still irritated that he ignored her abilities in the field.

"Fine. I'll see you in a few minutes," she told him.

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"This looks like the place," Booth said as they drove up to the storage company. "Gotta hand it to Ang, she found the right key and address pretty fast."

"Yes. She's very good at what she does," Brennan said as they got out of the SUV. "Do you have the key?"

"Yeah – got it right here," he said as they found the correct building.

"Good," she replied.

"Just stay behind me, okay? God knows what kinda twisted booby-trap this bastard might have in here," Booth said and opened the door with his gun cocked.

Brennan agreed, following close behind.

When the light was turned on, they stood and carefully observed the dimly lit lair. Newspaper clippings from his victims covered the walls, each crossed out with blood. Piping, hard drives, curtain rods, smashed light bulbs, and electrical wires were in disarray on a large folding table.

"There are traces of blood and bodily fluids all around this area in the corner," Brennan said, shining her black light around the room. It must have been where he dismembered the victims."

"Here's the receipt for the camera. My credit card number's on it," he said, finding it in the mess on the table.

Brennan glanced at the receipt, then something caught her eye on the wall.

"These articles are from right before we first started working together . . . Both of our names are circled and connected . . . And Parker's picture is pinned between your article and Rebecca's photo . . . Booth, we've been on his list since the beginning," she exclaimed.

"We've got him, Bones," Booth said, rubbing her shoulders in reassurance. "All we need is the ankle monitor and we've got him."

As the FBI and Jeffersonian teams were called in to dust for fingerprints and collect the evidence, she hoped she could come through for her family.

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"We checked out every possible way Pelant could've gotten past the ankle monitor. No ties in the company," Booth said, entering Angela's office.

"And Hodgins examined the monitor itself," Brennan said.

"Nothing was altered," Angela said and sighed. "How can we catch this creep?"

Brennan stared at the photo of Pelant on the screen.

"Angela? When was this photo taken?" she asked.

"I guess right after he was arrested – why?" Angela wondered.

"Ya onto somethin', Bones?" Booth inquired, hopefully.

"Could you bring up a more recent picture of him?" Brennan requested.

"I can try – usually the database doesn't take more than the one . . . Gimme a sec . . . Nope. Sorry, sweetie," Angela said.

"What were ya gettin' at?" Booth asked Brennan.

"Print out the original picture, Ang – I need to see him now to compare," she said, and walked out, headed for the garage.

"Bones? Bones – where ya goin'?" Booth asked, following her.

Angela just shook her head in amusement.

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"So I finally get to meet the famous Dr. Brennan. Mmm. Photos certainly don't do you justice," Pelant stared at Brennan with a disturbing expression as he sat in the interrogation room.

"Hey – watch it, pal! Just shut up and stick to what we came here for!" Booth insisted, stepping in front of his partner.

"_Booth!_ How am I supposed to make an accurate comparison when you're blocking the suspect?" she complained, pushing in front of him.

"Hands off, buddy! You so much as _breathe_ the wrong way -," Booth threatened, pulling out his gun and holding it to his temple.

Pelant didn't even flinch.

"_Booth! Put the gun down!_" Brennan insisted, horrified _he'd_ be the one in handcuffs if something happened.

"He's very protective, isn't he?" Pelant interjected with a smirk. "I would find that extremely irritating. But then again, I'm a very independent and self-sufficient person."

Brennan tried to ignore the way he attempted to manipulate her.

"The gun stays, Bones. I don't trust this guy. Just get on with your squinty stuff," he said, impatiently.

She sighed and held up the photograph to Pelant's face.

"Have you had any recent change in diet, Mr. Pelant?" she asked.

"Not since that case of the e-coli virus came out a few years ago. I now stick to organic vegetables, pasta, and tofu – a lot like your diet, Dr. Brennan. It's funny how much we both have in common," he smiled.

"We don't have anything in common that is relevant to this case," she replied, curtly. "Have you noticed any change in your weight?"

"No. But I don't get on a scale on a daily basis. Why do you ask?" he wondered.

"Hey – we'll do the asking – you answer," Booth commanded.

"His bone structure is slightly more prominent now than when this photo was taken – notice his mandibular protuberance?" she pointed to his chin.

"In English, Bones?" he asked.

"She's referring to my jaw," Pelant answered, smugly, then grinned patronizingly. "_I_ see what you're doin'. _Very good_, Dr. Brennan. I was beginning to think you couldn't live up to your reputation."

Brennan ignored him.

Booth scowled and looked at his partner, confused.

"It means that he could easily have removed the monitor from his ankle without it appearing to be loose," she answered.

"Sit down and take off your shoe," Booth demanded.

Pelant complied.

Brennan attempted to remove the device. After careful manipulation, she succeeded. She looked at Booth.

Booth motioned for her to take out his cuffs.

"Christopher Pelant, you're under arrest for the murders of Inger Johansson, Ezra Krane, and Rebecca Stinson. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . ." he read him his rights as he motioned for someone to take him down to be booked.

"Give my regards to Parker - I knew you'd enjoy having your son to yourself," Pelant remarked as he was taken away. "And that little one . . . she's so _cute_ - just like her mother . . ."

Booth immediately advanced toward him, but Brennan pulled him away.

"_Booth, he's not worth it!_" she reasoned.

Booth nodded reluctantly in agreement.

"Get him outta here," he instructed the other agents, then looked at his partner.

She looked back knowing he felt the same anger, relief, and sadness, and linked her arm through his as they walked out of the interrogation room.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you all so much for reading and for reviewing this story - I've really appreciated it! Here is the last chapter . . . Enjoy! :)_

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"Booth? Booth . . . where are you?" Brennan called, searching all around their house for him and finally deciding to look in the basement.

Booth was sitting in the blue stadium seats, amongst the disarray of their remaining possessions, staring at a picture of him and Parker.

"Christine is finally asleep for the night – or at least for a few hours," Brennan began.

Booth remained fixated on the picture.

"Since Parker has completed his final makeup work and is now on summer break, I thought we could celebrate with some takeout and a movie of his choice?" she suggested and got no response. "Booth?"

"He's right, ya know? . . . I got what I wanted," Booth said, guiltily.

Brennan sat down beside him.

"It's been a month since we arrested Pelant. Don't do this to yourself. _Don't let him get to you._ That was his intention - to manipulate us," she told him.

"But it's _true_. Look, Bones . . . I know you're tryin' to help but -" he dismissed her.

"_No_ – this is _not_ your fault! You didn't kill Rebecca," she assured him.

"It doesn't matter . . . Rebecca and I . . . we always had different ideas on Parker's visitation with me. I never saw him as much as I thought I should, but I didn't wanna knock what I had by pushing her too much. Only, the last time I saw her, we got into it . . . I seriously considered filing for joint custody," he admitted, his voice cracking. "Now she's gone . . ."

"Booth . . . what happened was a horrible tragedy and we will always attempt to honor and respect Rebecca's memory. But you had absolutely no part in the death of your son's mother. You did _nothing_ wrong," Brennan insisted.

Tears slowly trickled down his face and he tried to fight them.

"I know. I _know_ that. But I can't help feeling this pit in my stomach every time I laugh with Parker or give him a hug . . . tuck him in at night . . ." he revealed.

"He's your child – it's paternal instinct. You are allowed to care for your son and enjoy spending time with him. I would be worried if you didn't," she told him, gently wiping his remaining tears with the pads of her thumbs.

Booth sighed and half-smiled at her.

"Thanks, Bones," he told her.

Brennan stood up and took his hand, pulling him out of the chair.

"Come on, I'll even let you have the comfortable couch," she coaxed.

Booth lovingly put his arms around her and held her tight.

"We could share?" he suggested.

"Okay," she smiled, giving him a brief but tender kiss.

Booth leaned his forehead against hers.

Seeing the sadness and guilt he still held broke her metaphorical heart.

"I'm right here, Booth. Always," she reassured him.

He gently caressed her cheek and gave a bittersweet smile of love and gratitude.

"Let's go," he said, taking her hand as they headed upstairs.

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Brennan went downstairs in the middle of the night to try and console Christine without waking Booth or Parker up. As she headed for the kitchen, she noticed a glow from the TV in the family room and a small figure on the couch.

"Parker?" Brennan asked, slowly entering the room. "What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep," he explained. "I didn't wanna wake anybody else, so I came down here to watch TV."

"Did you have another bad dream?" she assumed, sitting next to him, Christine finally calming down.

He shook his head.

"I just can't stop thinking about her . . . I found these videos of my soccer tournament and my graduation from elementary," he pointed to the flat screen, his face red from crying. "I needed to see her again."

"Oh, Parker," Brennan felt tears form in her eyes and put her free arm around the boy. "You know I do the same thing with my mom. Whenever I'm missing her, I watch the tape she made for me when I turned sixteen. It's not rational and it doesn't bring her back, but it is comforting to see and hear her again."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Grandpa Nick and Nana Mary let me have an album from when Mom was my age . . . and I have some pictures from all sorts of things we used to do."

"I'd like to see those sometime – if it's alright with you," Brennan offered.

"Sure. Do you have any pictures of your mom?" he wondered.

"Not many, but you're welcome to look at them and the video, if you'd like," she said.

"Cool . . . Can I hold Christine? I wanna show her my mom," he asked. "You can watch, too."

"Of course. I will go make us some hot chocolate," Brennan said, carefully handing the baby over to Parker. "Perhaps we can plan to do this on a regular basis? Whenever you're feeling sad about your mother, your father and I will help you remember her?"

"And I can help you remember your mom?" he said, hesitantly.

"Yes," she smiled. "I would like that very much."

As she went toward the kitchen, she ran into Booth.

"Everything alright?" he asked, putting his arms around her waist.

"Yes. Christine was crying, and I came downstairs so I wouldn't wake you," she explained, quietly. "Parker couldn't sleep either. I found him watching a video of his mother."

"Another nightmare?" Booth guessed.

"No, he just missed her," Brennan replied. "I'm making hot chocolate. Would you like some?"

"I'd love some," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the lips, before she broke free from his embrace.

When she returned with his and Parker's drinks, she found Booth watching his children with contentment.

Parker continued to tell his sister all about his mother.

She handed Booth his mug and questioned the look in his eyes.

"We're gonna be okay, Bones," he stated, wrapping his free arm around her.

Brennan half-smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder, letting Parker and Christine have one more minute alone.


End file.
